


13 Reasons Why One-Shots

by BCJ1997, Elenaxoxo



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universes, Angst, Canon, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Fluff, I can't possibly tag everything fam, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Smut, Violence, non-canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 00:04:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11771265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BCJ1997/pseuds/BCJ1997, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elenaxoxo/pseuds/Elenaxoxo
Summary: In this story you will find one-shots for all of my favorite ships in this fandom. Every one-shot has been already written so I'll be posting multiple chapters a day. Please read every note before each chapter to see any warnings.





	1. Clay Jensen/Tony Padilla

**Author's Note:**

> LET'S DO THIS FAM!
> 
> As I said, every chapter has been written. I spent months and months writing this and I hope you all enjoy.
> 
> "My Own Worst Enemy" is also finished and I'll be posting more chapters tomorrow. I never publish a story until I've completed it so no one has to wait too long. "Whatever Happened to Clay Jensen" has been deleted because I didn't like the way it turned out. Maybe I'll revise it and re-post it at some point. 
> 
> Thank you, BCJ1997 for helping me with this.  
> I know you're going through a tough time and you're already so worried about uploading your own stories, but you took time to edit and help me with ideas and I will be forever grateful <3 Love you girl. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter Summary: While on a road trip, Clay realizes he's in love with his best friend.

* * *

It happens in Nevada. They’re two weeks into their road trip, getting gas at a small gas station at the edge of the desert. Clay’s in the car, fingers drumming on the dashboard, waiting for Tony to finish paying. He's opened the windows in hopes of getting some fresh air, but all he's getting is specs of fresh sand flying in his face, so he starts to roll the windows back up. As he does, he glances to the side into the the gas station. Tony is smiling at the attendant, who looks to be around their age and has a smirk playing on his face as he leans across the counter to talk to Tony.

And suddenly, the only thought going through Clay’s mind is, _I kind of wanna kiss Tony._

Clay straightens in his seat so fast his head spins. His heart misses one, two, three beats, then stumbles in its hurry to catch up.

He wants to kiss Tony? His best friend?

He looks up to where the shorter man is just stepping out of the gas station. Tony catches his eye and smiles softly at him.

_Yep, definitely want to kiss him._

“You okay?” Tony asks as he slides back behind the wheel, a small crease of worry between his eyebrows.

“Uh, yeah, I'm fine. It's just hot as hell,” Clay mumbles, wiping the sweat off his forehead that isn't entirely due to the heat.

“I'll turn the A.C. back on.” Tony starts the car and pulls back out onto the road. Clay leans back in his seat to stare out the window.

 _Fuck_.

 

* * *

 

For the most part, Clay manages to ignore his newfound romantic feelings for his best friend. It's easiest during the day, when they’re trying to figure out where to go, what to eat, what music to listen to, playfully arguing about red versus blue Gatorade and only agreeing on the fact that green is definitely the worst.

It's harder at night. Before setting out on their trip, they’d agreed to always go for the cheapest option at any place they stay; which means that when they’re not sleeping in the tent, they’re usually sleeping in the same bed. It shouldn't be a problem. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were kids, but they were _kids_. The urge to reach out and trace the tattoos on Tony’s chest is almost irresistible in the quiet moments of the night.

He expected questions from Tony, questions about why he's acting a little oddly, but the questions don't come. Clay is staring up at the ceiling fan’s lazy rotations that don't do anything to cool the room, just move the hot air around enough for it to not be stifling, when he realizes that he's in love with Tony, and just because he hadn't realized it until now doesn't mean it just happened.

He turns his head to look at Tony, who fell asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow. Tony’s lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around his pillow, snoring softly. His hair is already a mess. The blankets have been pushed down until they barely come up to his waist, and Clay’s eyes linger on the relaxed lines of Tony’s back.

With a sigh, he slips out of bed. He pulls a pair of jeans and some shoes, grabs the keys off the hook by the door, and steps out of the room. It's not much cooler outside, but at least the air doesn't smell like cleaning supplies and stale cigarette smoke. They’re on the ground floor of the motel, with the Mustang parked almost right in front of their room. The motel is situated at the edge of a small town, and when Clay sits on the hood of the car, he looks right into the Main Street with all its little shops and offices. Nobody else is out, no car rumbling through the quiet night. It's a magical, almost dreamlike feeling, like you're the only person in the world who's awake.

“Hey!”

Clay looks up with a start. It's the woman from the front desk. _Christy? Charlotte? Marlene? Jolene? No, that's a song._

“Hi.” He smiles politely back.

She lights a cigarette, then offers him one. He shakes his head.

“You okay, hon?” She asks.

“Yeah, I...just couldn't sleep.” He shrugs.

“Well, at least it's a nice night, isn't it?” She takes a drag of her cigarette as she regards him. When she blows out her smoke she makes sure to blow it so the wind takes it away from Clay. “You look like me after a disagreement with my husband. Boyfriend trouble?”

Clay blinks. _Boyfriend? What boyfr--oh._ “We’re, uh, we’re not dating. We’re just friends.”

“Sorry.”

Clay waves away the apology.

“It's just, the way you looked at him earlier…” the woman continues.

He looks down at his hands, fiddling with the key. He doesn't ask her specify “earlier.” She could mean when they checked in and Tony had to unpack half his bag to find his wallet. Or at the pool, cooling off after two long days in the car. Or maybe it was when they got back from dinner, sharing what was left of Clay’s second milkshake.

“You gonna tell him?” She asks, then quickly adds, “I'm sorry. That is _way_ too personal. Wow, I'm a real nosy bitch tonight, aren't I?”

“It's fine. It's not like I really have anyone else to talk to about this right now.” Clay looks back up and stares into the sleeping town. “I'll tell him when we get back home. I'm gonna have to create some distance between us, just for a little while. To get over him. Not really something that's possible when you're in the same car for most of the day.”

“You sure he doesn't feel the same way?”

 _Sure_. He remembers when Tony said that to him last year. _Sure_. He hadn't thought much of it, too busy with the tapes to really sit down and think about it. But then there's Brad, who Tony still isn't over even though they’ve been broken up for a few months now.

“Pretty sure,” Clay nods.

“Well, good luck, honey,” the woman says, patting his knee.

They talk about other things, simpler things, until the woman’s cigarettes are gone, then say goodbye. Clay doesn't watch her go, his mind already back on Tony. He wonders if things between them will change much after he tells him. Probably not. Tony will give him what he needs to get over him and they’ll go back to what they’ve always been, to being _TonyandClay_. At least, he hopes they will.

He twirls the key ring as he thinks things over, not really paying attention to what he's doing, and it flies out of his hand before he realizes what's happening. He waits for them to clatter on the pavement so he can start looking for them, but the sound doesn't come. He looks up. Tony is standing next to the car, keys in his hands, sweatpants slung low on his hips.

“Clay, I...I’m sorry,” Tony says. “I didn't mean to eavesdrop.”

“Eavesdr--oh.” Clay suddenly feels very small. He wants to look away from Tony, but the earnest look on Tony’s face has him frozen.

“If you really want to wait until we get home to talk, that's fine, but if it's okay with you I really want to say something.”

Clay considers telling Tony that he wants to wait, to implement his “ignore the problem until it goes away” strategy, but he's gotten very bad at ignoring things over the past year. He doesn't think this is something they can ignore, even if they tried, so he nods.

Tony sits next to him, close enough that their thighs are almost pressing together. His body is turned toward Clay, and their faces are so close that Clay can feel Tony’s breath tickling against his lips.

“I've noticed it, too. The way you look at me. I was waiting for you to notice that I'm looking back at you the same way,” Tony whispers into what little space is left between them. “I have been since we were kids.”

“Holy shit.” Clay can't stop the words from dropping out of his mouth. His heart is trying to pound out of his chest, and he's scared to breathe, scared that one breath will blow this moment away.

Tony chuckles, pressing their foreheads together. Clay tries to calm down a little, but then Tony’s lips are on his and his body feels like it's on fire. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, so he keeps them in his lap. Don't doesn’t seem to have that problem, because he fists one hand in Clay’s shirt, and the other is cradling Clay’s face.

When they pull back, they burst out laughing. They press their faces in each other’s shoulders to muffle the sounds.

“That was a little weird, wasn't it?” Tony mumbles against Clay’s neck.

Clay pulls back and grins at him. “Yeah. Good weird, though.”

“Hmm,” Tony hums in agreement.

Clay slides off of the hood of the car. Somehow, his hand has found its way into Tony’s, and he uses it to pull Tony back to their room with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Justin finds Alex outside watching the snow.

“What are you doing?” Justin asks.

“Watching the snow,” Alex says.

“I can see that. Why?”

“Because it's snowing.”

Justin huffs. There's a bit of scuffle behind Alex as Justin steps outside while trying to keep Max inside. He fails, and their black lab races into their front yard, biting at the snow flakes.

“Are you ever surprised that we got here?” Alex muses.

“Me finding you on our porch freezing your ass off? No.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Okay, yeah, but it's our porch. You and me. _Together_.”

“So?”

“Did you ever see us getting here?”

Justin hums and sits down next to him. Alex grabs his arm to throw it over his shoulder.

“Do you have any regrets?” He can't help but ask.

“There are a lot of things I would have liked to have done differently, yeah,” Justin admits. “Nothing that has to do with you, just...I don't know. Hannah. Jessica. The tapes.”

“Even if it would've meant us not ending up here?”

“Hey, who the hell said we wouldn't have ended up here anyway?” Justin looks down at him with a smirk.

“With you finding me on our porch freezing my ass off?” Alex says slyly.

Justin laughs and presses his face into Alex’s hair.

“Exactly.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah just wants Jessica to learn how to cook so they can avoid what happened last time...

“Babe, can you help me with the vegetables?” Hannah asks, her voice sweet and smooth.

Jess looks at her with raised eyebrows. “Sure, _babe_.”

She says goodbye to the guy she was talking to and follows Hannah back to their own cooking Island.

“I'm not here to make friends,” Hannah reminds her, shoving an eggplant in Jessica’s hands. “And neither are you.”

“Then why are we here?”

“To make sure you don't give me food poisoning. Again.”

Jessica rolls her eyes. She starts cutting the eggplant and Hannah quickly changes Jessica’s grip on the vegetables before she cuts off a finger.

“That was one time. And you only had a stomach ache for half an hour.”

“Yeah, and next time I'll be in the hospital or dead,” Hannah says, nudging her partner playfully. She measures the pasta and throws it in the pot of boiling water. When she looks back up Jess is grinning at her.

“You're such a sweet-talker,” she says, and plants a quick kiss on Hannah’s cheek.

“Careful!” Hannah grabs Jess’s wrist so she doesn't actually stab either of them. “So now I not only have to watch out for you poisoning me, but stabbing me also. Great.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hannah and Clay have a snowball fight. Who will win?

Hannah’s heart is beating so fast it feels like it's about to burst out of her chest. She needs to calm down and focus. She closes her eyes, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth, and focuses on letting the tension that is fogging up her mind drain out of her. Much better.

She looks to her little pile of ammunition. There isn't much left, and from how close the sound of snow crunching underneath thick soles is, she knows she doesn't have time to make more. She takes a snowball in each hand. She’ll throw with her left first, though the aim will be a little off, but it might distract Clay enough that she can get a solid hit with the snowball in her right hand.

Peeking through the windows of the car she's hiding behind, Hannah sees Clay’s red hat bobbing around the back of the car. _Who wears red during a snowball fight? Amateurs, that's who._

Just a couple more steps and Clay will be out from behind the car. _Three. Two. O--_

“Gotcha!” Clay yells as he jumps out from behind the car and starts pelting Hannah with the snowballs he has cradled in his arms. A lot of them go wide, hitting the car or the ground, but they’re close enough that Hannah has to duck her head to avoid getting snow in her eyes. Clay keeps advancing. More snowballs find their target, Hannah’s head, her arms, her legs. All Hannah can do is stay curled in on herself and wait for Clay to get close enough.

Finally, she sees the tips of Clay’s shoes from beneath her arms. She jumps up, wraps an arm around Clay waist and tackles him into the snow. Clay goes down with a grunt. Before he can recover and retaliate, Hannah grabs Clay’s wrists and pins them down.

“Do you give up?” She asks. Show lowers her face until their noses brush, then brushes their lips together in a soft kiss.

“I give up. You win,” Clay grins.

Hannah stands up and pulls Clay with her. “Of course I do.” She brushes the snow off of herself while Clay does the same. They quickly make their way back inside, and fifteen minutes later they’re on the couch with cups of hot chocolate. Clay is trying to find a movie to watch, while Hannah gently runs her fingers through Clay’s wet hair.

“I totally won by the way,” Clay says, dismissing Home Alone and moving onto the next movie.

“No, you didn't! I'm the one who pulled you into the snow,” Hannah protests. “That means that I won.”

“But I got more hits.”

“More hits doesn't mean you win. When your opponent is down, that's when you have the victory, Helmet.”

“Will you let me have this one if I agree to watch The Santa Clause?” Claiy asks, smiling at her.

“No.”

“Rematch tomorrow?”

“What if all the snow's gone?”

“We’ll find some place that still has some. I'll drive all the way to Canada if it means I get to win.”

Hannah snorts. Like that’ll happen.

 


	5. Justin/Alex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not April Fools anymore, and Justin has a question for Alex.

Justin rolls the pebbles in his hand. The soft _tick tick_ of the rocks is the only sound in the night. Well, that and the pounding of his heart. He checks his phone again. One more minute.

His hands twitch to his jacket pocket, where he put his car keys (he finally got his license last week and it stills feel weird.) It’s not too late to leave. Alex doesn't know that he's here. No one knows that he's here, not even Zach. He's the only one who’ll know if he pussies out. He squares his shoulders and checks his phone again. _Fuck. Shit. Okay. Here goes nothing._

He throws the first pebble, flinching when it hits Alex’s bedroom window, his nerves transforming the sound into a gunshot. He holds his breath and waits.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing happens, not even a twitch of the curtains. He knows Alex is in there. There's a light on and every once in awhile a shape moves by the window. It can't be Alex’s father, because he's working. Justin checked. He throws another pebble. He almost throws the third one right after it, when the curtains move. Justin can't see his face, but it's Alex, he can tell.

Alex’s window doesn't make a sound when it's pushed open.

“Justin?” Alex whispers loudly, incredulously.

Justin gives a short wave, nerves closing up his throat.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks.

“I wanted to-”

“Wait.” The blonde holds up his hand. “You’d better come up before one of my neighbors calls my dad again.”

Justin wants to know what Alex means by “again,” but thinks better of it. He waits for Alex to disappear to open the front door, but Alex points to the tree next to his house. It looks easy enough to climb, and one of the thicker branches sticks out far enough that from there Justin can jump onto the porch roof, and then climb through Alex’s window.

“I'm so fucked,” he mutters under his breath as he drops the remaining pebbles and stuffs his phone in his pocket.

He quickly climbs up. When he reaches the window his breath catches in his throats. Alex is still standing there, so close, looking at him with wonder.

“I didn't think you’d actually do it,” Alex says.

“Well, I did. Now move so I can come inside,” Justin grumbles, his face heating up. They’re not even dating and he's already doing whatever ridiculous thing Alex asks of him.

Alex scoffs and steps aside. Justin climbs into the room, giving Alex a light shove when he passes him.

“So, what are you doing here?” Alex asks, sitting down on his bed. He gestures for Justin to take the desk chair.

Justin stays where he is, in the middle of the room. He should've stayed by the window, or moved closer to the door, that would make his escape much easier if this doesn't go as planned. He doesn't move, though. Seeing Alex so relaxed, in a pair of sweats and and a loose t-shirt, makes it harder for him to breathe, to think. He can't remember anything of what he’d planned to say, all he can think is that Alex looks really good like this.

“Is this some kind of April Fools dare? Because three times was more than enough for being the butt of the joke in one day,” Alex says, pulling Justin out of his thoughts. He looks small again, like he had that afternoon, the amusement of getting Justin to climb up a tree fading fast.

Justin bristles, and remembers why he decided to do this tonight. Three assholes decided it would be hilarious to ask Alex out as a joke today. Justin had found him on the bleachers, sad and hurt, thinking that was all he was good for. Alex hadn't exactly said it like that, but the bitter way he laughed when he told Justin about it was a pretty good indicator of his thoughts.

That laugh echoing through Justin’s head, steels his resolve. Even if this doesn't turn out the way he wants it to, even if Alex says no, at least it’ll give Alex enough of a confidence boost to put that annoyingly smug and beautiful smirk back on his face.

“It's not April Fools anymore.” Justin nods at the clock on Alex’s nightstand.

“It's ten past midnight,” Alex says softly to himself. He looks more confused than Justin’s ever seen him. “So what _are_ you doing here?”

“Do you want to go out with me?” Justin blurts out.

Alex flinches so hard, Justin thinks he might’ve pulled something.

“Right,” Justin says. He tries to keep his head up, but it's hard. He thought Alex might be surprised, as he's been pretty good at hiding his crush on the blonde, but he didn't expect Alex’s reaction to be so visceral. “Guess that's my answer. See you on Monday.”

He balls his hands into fists to stop them from shaking as he moves to the window. _Fuck_. He knew there was a good chance Alex would say no, but he hadn't expected it to suck this much.

A hand on his arm stops him, and Justin turns around.

“Is this a pity thing?” Alex asks. His Hand clenches around Justin’s bicep.

Justin can't read his expression in the low light, but he thinks there might be hope in there.

“I don't do pity,” Justin reminds him.

“So this is real? You're really asking me out? Not as a joke, or out of pity, or...something else that isn't you liking me?”

Justin huffs and rolls his eyes. “No, I waited until it was no longer April Fools, climbed up a tree, risking my life and limbs, to ask you out as a fucking joke.”

Sarcasm was definitely the right way to go. Alex’s smile is bright and beautiful.

“Do you wanna go out with me or not?” Justin sighs, but a smile of his own forms.

“Uh, yeah--yeah, definitely.” Alex seems excited, but he does his best to hide it.

Justin smirks and leans in, watching Alex’s eyes widen as he presses their lips together. Warmth spreads through his body, then settles in his chest. He breaks away, and climbs out the back window. Before he reaches his car, his phone chirps.

  
**_From: Alex_ **

**_What the fuck? You can't just leave someone hanging like that._ **

  
Justin snorts.

  
**To: Alex**

**And yet I did.**

**You free tomorrow afternoon?**

 

**_From: Alex_ **

**_I'll pick you up at 3._ **

 


	6. Sheri/Clay

Sheri would rather stab herself in the foot than admit it, but she's tired. She's been playing hostess in four inch heels all night, her feet hurt, her head hurts, her calves hurt, and all she can do is keep going and keep smiling. The moment she sits down, her body won't let her get back up again. Her friends would help her if she asked, of course, but they’re her guests as well.

She finds one of the bowls of chips on the coffee table empty and quickly grabs a bag from the kitchen. When she comes back, forging a path through the mass zombies and superheroes, to the living room, an arm wraps around her waist and pulls her down before she can even open the bag. She lands in a firm lap against a warm body. The second the weight is off her feet the blood starts flowing back into them, her muscles somehow relaxing and cramping at the same time.

“You're exhausted,” Clay says, hooking his chin over Sheri’s shoulders and tracing the shell of Sheri’s ear with her nose. He must be slightly drunk, because he would never do this in front of people sober. “I don't get why you wear those things.” He nods at her shoes.

“Because they make my legs look good.”

Clay hums and hugs Sheri a little closer to his body. It's a little awkward with the small angel wings strapped to Sheri’s back.

“You don't agree?” Sheri asks, turning her head.

“Your legs always look good.”

“Well, good looking or not, these legs are useless for the rest of the night.” Sheri slowly pulls off her shoes, groaning as her cramped muscles relax a little more. Clay manhandles her until Sheri is sitting sideways on his lap, then brushes his fingers over the top of Sheri’s foot. His girlfriend sighs in relief.

“Great. That means you can stay right here,” Clay says, pressing a kiss to Sheri’s cheek.

 

 


	7. Clay/Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're in kindergarten when Clay tells Tony he loves him.

Clay shakes the almost empty jar of glitter, like it will somehow double the leftovers, and looks down at the Christmas card he's making for his parents. He wanted to fill in the tree he made with silver glitter, but now he’ll have to settle for a mixture of blue and silver.

“Didn't you just get new glitter?” He asks Tony. He’s sure Tony had just gotten up to get some more glitter from Ryan’s table.

“That was all that was left,” Tony shrugs.

Clay frowns.

“I can ask Miss Jennie if there's more in the cupboard,” Tony offers.

“That's okay. Blue and silver are kind of pretty together anyway.”

Clay spreads what's left of the silver carefully around the Christmas tree, then fills in the the gap with blue. When he's down, he pulls back and nods, satisfied with his work. All that's left now is are some red dots with a glitter pen for ornaments, and for Miss Jennie to write _Merry Christmas_ with her fancy letters above tree.

Now where was that red glitter pen?

Clay twists in his chair, checking all his classmates’ tables for the pen, and locating it on Courtney’s. He hops off his chair, but Monty cuts him off and grabs the glitter pen before he can, without even asking Courtney if it was okay.

“I need it”, Monty says, then marches back to his table.

Clay claps his hand over his mouth when he sees Monty’s back, not wanting to laugh at the other boy. Most of the others don't seem to have that problem. A ripple of giggles moves through the classroom, until it reaches Bryce, who loudly says, “Monty, your butt’s all shiny.”

Clay moves back to his seat, glancing at Tony, who is sliding in his chair, shoulders hunched, trying to hide his grin. So that's where all the glitter went.

“What's going on?” Miss Jennie asks from where she's helping Tyler, who's glued his fingers to scissors again.

“Monty’s butt is full of glitter!” Someone shouts.

“And his chair,” Zach adds, looking down at the seat next to his.

Miss Jennie quickly moves toward Monty and turns him around. Monty’s face is red with anger and he's staring right at Tony. Miss Jennie follows Monty’s glare.

“Tony, did you do this?” She asks, a stern look on her face.

Tony shakes his head.

He's lying, of course. They all know he is. Monty made fun of Clay earlier during recess and Tony had threatened to get him back for that. Clay hadn't expected it to be this soon, though.

“It was me,” he pipes up.

Tony’s eyes widen and he tugs on Clay’s sleeve. “What are you doing? You'll get in trouble,” he hisses.

“So will you, with your dad,” Clay hisses back. Tony has done this for him, so Clay doesn't mind having to stay late today and not being allowed to watch TV for a couple of days.

Miss Jennie looks skeptical, but there's nothing she can do, so she sighs. “Alright. Clay, I'll have to call your parents. Monty, go to the office and see if they have any clean pants for you.”

“I'm not gonna put on someone else's pants!” Monty protests.

“Then you'll have to put on your gym shorts. You can't walk around leaving glitter everywhere.”

“Like a unicorn!” Sheri nods seriously.

“Clay…” Tony starts.

“I did it because I love you,” Clay says. It's something he's heard a lot on TV, his parents say it all the time, and it always sounds like a good reason.

“You do?” Clay asks, confused.

“I asked my mom how you know if you love someone, and she says that when you love someone you can't imagine life without them, and they make you feel happy and warm inside,” Clay explains, pressing a hand to his chest, “and sometimes you do things for them that you don't like.”

“Oh...well, then I love you too,” Tony smiles.


End file.
